


Diamond

by GreyWeeknds



Series: 30 days writing challenge [26]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:56:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWeeknds/pseuds/GreyWeeknds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall want to say to him, ‘Take it easy lad, okay?’, but then he sees this determent gaze that could cut through a diamond in just one try. The tall and thin body swirls around in the air as the wind, it looks so smooth and beautiful but in the same time like this dangerous storm that’s going to steal his heart in just one finger snap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diamond

 

Niall want to say to him, ‘Take it easy lad, okay?’, but then he sees this determent gaze that could cut through a diamond in just one try. The tall and thin body swirls around in the air as the wind, it looks so smooth and beautiful but in the same time like this dangerous storm that’s going to steal his heart in just one finger snap.

He’s been observing the younger guy for a while now. Not in a creepy way, or that’s what he’s been telling himself, but more in an admiring way. Sometimes when he see how the long and slender leg just points up against the roof, or when his big toe lifts his entire body up, it amazes him. He’d like to be as good as Harry, but he knows he doesn’t have the money to even dream about it. The only way to be near the ballet school is to work there… as a cleaner. 

He knows it’s not the fanciest work, and that a lot of the pupils that dances there laugh at him behind his back, but it doesn’t really matter. Because he knows that Harry doesn’t do it, doesn’t have the time to. He hasn’t even looked at Niall once, only been trying to improve what’s already perfection.

When he hears the tones from the piano surrounding his ears, and sees the brunette’s toes jumping like a butterfly’s wings, his whole chest swells. It’s not of pride, or he thinks it’s not, but of emotions like; jealousness, lust, adoration, passion… and love. He’s quite certain that he loves the boy, because whenever he comes near him, it feels like he floats on the air instead of walking on the ground. He’s want to tell Harry about his feelings to him, to say that he worships him more than God himself. But then he remembers that he has to begin with a simple hello, and then develop it later.

His mum has told him for years now that soon, soon she’ll have the cash to afford at least one semester for him. But there are always things that get in the way, people that does. Men that appear in their kitchen with a green beer bottle as they paw on her body, wearing that smug smirk that he’s seen on so many males before. He wants to scream at her, to say, “Look, look at me. I’m your son, the person who should mean the most to you. Don’t just let me stand in the corner while all those men uses you, let me help instead.” But his voice is as quiet as a mute bird, forgotten by the big and scary world.

One day he watches the taller teen’s feet, they dances graciously all over the floor, and it looks so easy, like he’s not even trying. But then suddenly, the music breaks, and the brunette fall down, one foot in an unnatural position. Nobody helps him; he just lies there on the wooden floor, thousand of eyes judging him. It isn’t until Niall swallows the nervousness that he runs to him, puts his arms around him in a protecting way. He can hear tiny sobs escaping from the thick lips, and it breaks his heart. He forgets all about the reason why he even is here, to do his job as a cleaner. Two watery eyes looks up to him, emerald meets sapphire, and he’s almost certain that the whole room became a little bit more crimson.

He strokes his fingers gently over the blushing cheek, expecting Harry to shiver by his touch. But instead he just leans in against the palm, like it is the most natural thing to do. He wants to kiss him, take the pain that the younger boy feel and transfer it to himself. He wants to say to him that everything will be okay, that this accident will not change his chances to be a professional dancer. But all he can do is to send him a toothy smile, warmth beaming from his pale skin.

“Hello.” He says.

“Hi.”

And perhaps it’s not what he thought it was going to be, not the whole sunset and white horses with a kiss as passionate as a knight in a shining armor. But it’s a start to something promising, maybe a new friendship and hopefully something more.

 

 


End file.
